Fire Emblem: Of Tactics and Tania
by Cking91
Summary: Though afforded a life of luxury, Hoyt felt trapped as the second son of a lord. Allowed to pursue his passion in tactics, a chance meeting with a girl of the plains would change his life forever. Rated Teen.


**Fire Emblem: Of Tactics and Tania**- A Fire Emblem Fanfiction

Summary: Though afforded a life of luxury, Hoyt felt trapped as the second son of a lord. Allowed to pursue his passion in tactics, a chance meeting with a girl of the plains would change his life forever. Rated Teen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem.

Prologue: A Girl from the Plains

_The House of Tania had long been a minor player in the greater politics of Lycia. Located in the far Western portion of the country, it offered a safe night's stay for travelers in the mountains between Lycia and Bern and its economy was based in a constant stream of these visitors._

_The city itself was small and rural, even for Lycia, and the people were thought of as nothing more then farmers themselves. Even the nobility of the city were called "country lords" at best and "trumped-up rustics with delusions of grandeur" at worst. But the culture of the people in the area was strong as was their belief in helping others and doing the right thing. One of the oldest cities in the country, there was a strong sense of history and tradition ingrained within the people of Tania from birth._

_At the center of the city of Tania was their ruler, who in the present era was a man named Malvin. Barrel chested and strong, he stood a good head taller than even most of his knights. His hair was long and wild and the color of the night sky. His eyes were the same crystal blue as the rivers that ran through the mountains in his home. He wore a beard, the same color as his hair though peppered with a few specks of gray, that fell down past his belt. He was a brave and passionate man who always found a way to help make sure everyone in his canton was fed and taken care of. It was said that his laugh would ring out from his dinner table and could be heard well into the Bernese side of the mountains. His wife Meghan, now sadly deceased, stood a great deal shorter than him with sawdust colored hair and striking emerald eyes. Together, they had three children._

_The oldest, Renny, was said to take after her mother in personality. She was collected and calm and often the voice of reason tempering her boisterous father and younger brothers. At nineteen, her own sawdust hair shone in the sunlight and her teal eyes sparkled whenever she felt her point had been made. She was often sought after by the lords of the land for her hand, but she felt that her duty to her canton and her family always came first._

_The middle child was as big and strong as his father. Brandan, or Bran for short, lived for the hunt or a fight and would often train with the knights at court. He felt the best way to show compassion was with tough love and that being frail was the ultimate form of weakness. Physically, he resembled his father with the same midnight colored hair, worn at length around his shoulders. and crystal blue eyes. At seventeen, he felt there was no challenge in the world too big for him._

_At fourteen, the youngest son Hoyt could not have been more different than his father or brother. Though he shared the same raven colored hair as the other two males, though his was short and cropped, his emerald eyes were that of his mother and his softer features often had him mistaken for a girl in his youth. He was physically smaller than most of the boys his age and hated the rougher games his older brother liked to indulge in. Often feeling left out, he developed a sarcastic personality and few at the court ever got close to him, save his sister, his personal bodyguard, Lyam, and his tutor, Piran. However, Hoyt possessed a mind far greater than any seen in Lycia in centuries. His strategies in a time of crisis would go on to shape the destiny of the world around him._

…

Two Years Later

The sounds of birds chirping and the throbbing pain in his temple were the first thing Hoyt was aware of as he awoke. Though the pounding in his head was fierce, he forced his eyes open to survey his surroundings.

He seemed to be a tent of some sort, large enough for a small family and decorated in pelts of various animals and tribal paintings. In the corner of the room sat a leather pouch for supplies, a majestic golden saddle and accompanying saddle bag. He immediately identified these items as his own, his equipment for his mare Artemis. Next to his own equipment were more worn and handmade tools for another horse. At the other end of the tent was small wooden table with various coking utensils and equipment for making, from what he could tell, potions and medicine.

At the table stood the only other occupant of the tent, a young woman who seemed to be around his age. She had long jade green hair that fell to the middle of her back. She was dressed in a simple blue dress that was slit up the right side for easier movement. The dress was laced in gold, the same color as the belt around her waist and the scabbard hanging from it.

He coughed slightly, alerting her to his awakening.

She turned immediately, her eyes the same striking color as her hair, with a look of relief on her face approached him holding a medicine vial.

"Ah... you're awake. Thank the spirits," she said. Her angelic voice seemed to sing throughout the tent and pierce Hoyt to his very core.

"So beautiful," he said, before his mind caught up with his mouth he blushed slightly at her confused glance and cleared his throat before continuing. "Er... that is. The paintings on the wall, they're very beautiful."

"Thank you," she responded, glancing back at the wall of the tent with a small shrug. "I am Lyn, of the Lorca Tribe. I found you passed out on the back of a mare some two miles from here. She is fed and tied up outside of the ger. Tell me stranger, what is your name?"

"Uh... Hoyt."

"Hoyt... what an unusual name. Nevertheless, it is a good name all the same. I can tell you are foreign from your dress," she motioned to the green cloak wrapped around his small frame and partially covering the white shirt and brown pants he wore. "What are you doing in Sacae?"

Hoyt's eyes widened. "I'm in Sacae? Last thing I remember is being in the Bernese mountains."

"Well, we are close to the Bernese border here. And we're just south of the trading city Bulgar."

A silence past between the two as Hoyt analyzed the information she told him. Sacae was a day's travel from his last known location. To have been unconscious for that amount of time... it was a miracle that he hadn't died. He sat up, grabbing Lyn's offered hand to stand and stretch. Though not tall by any means, she still stood a bit taller than himself. He cursed his height for the moment being and ran his hands through his now shaggy and mopped hair, a trait he had picked up when he was uncomfortable. And as he was almost always uncomfortable, he often found himself running a hand through his hair. He watched Lyn for a moment, nervously paying with the hem of her dress and decided to break the silence.

"Do you live by yourself Lyn?" he asked.

She turned quickly away from him and he heard her stifle a sob. "My parents... my tribe, they died about a month ago. Killed, by bandits."

He shuffled his feat for a minute, running his hands through his hair again. "I-I'm sorry..."

"It's alright, you had no way of knowing."

"Still... I mean to lose your entire family..." a rustling outside of the tent stopped him from continuing. "Wait, do you hear that?"

Lyn nodded and took a look outside. "Bandits come down from the mountain. Hoyt, stay here, I'll be back soon." She placed her hand on the scabbard and drew an iron sword.

"I'm coming with. I can help you."

"You don't look like a swordsman..."

"No, I'm not. I deal more with strategies on the battlefield."

Lyn nodded. "A tactician are you? Very well. Stay close to me."

…

From the outside of the tent, they could see a small group of four bandits raiding one of the empty gers that Hoyt guess belonged to the rest of Lyn's tribe. All of them were bulking figures, most likely slow and wielding unruly looking axes. Sure, they could kill if they got hold of someone... but the odds seemed stacked against them if they were facing a fast swordsman. Swords naturally held the advantage over axes in direct combat.

"_Let's see,"_ he thought, closing his eyes to formulate a plan of attack. _"Sacaens typically use bows or swords and often favor quick strikes in rapid succession. When done right, it's more of a dance then the measured fencing used back home. It would be no good sending her against all of them at once, but Lyn should have no problem facing them one at a time. We need to draw them to her and have her fight on the defensive until she thins their numbers. Or, we sneak up to them and attack without being seen."_ Looking around, he noticed a small patch of trees between them and the bandits. _"That's perfect cover for us to lead them one at a time into a trap. I have to hope these bandits seem as stupid as my training has taught me to believe."_

"Lyn," he stated. "We need to move to those trees. There we'll draw them to us and attack from the shadows."

The pair moved quickly to the trees and hid themselves in the shade. Picking up a rock, Hoyt threw it at the ground behind the first two of the bandits.

"Go and check to see if anyone's there," One of them grunted out.

"Lyn," Hoyt whispered. "Wait until he is directly standing next to the trees and then make your move."

The moment the bandit could peer inside the shade of the trees, Lyn struck her sword out. Using it as as a hook, she pulled him close to her before running him through with the blade. He fell, dead, with a small moan.

"Whatcha think yer doin' over there Ferg? If I gotta pull ya from another thorn bush I swear I'll kill ya," the second bandit claimed, hoisting his axe over his shoulder as he moved toward the trees. He quickly met the same fate as his companion as Lyn took him down in a matter of seconds.

The next two bandits were smarter than the others and rushed the trees together. However, Lyn moved with grace Hoyt had not seen before and they, too, were felled quickly.

Hoyt and Lyn left the trees and took a glance around the small tents.

"I doubt any of them were the leaders of this little team. He must be in one of the tents looting for gold or food," Hoyt noted. A rustling in a nearby tent confirmed his theory. "Okay. Lyn, sneak up behind the tent and I'll draw him out. When he's facing me, take him down."

She nodded, but seemed to question it as she stared at her companion. "But what if I fail?"

"You won't"

"But if I do, I want you to run. Run and don't look back!" she exclaimed, rushing to hide in the shadow the tent created. Crouching low to avoid being seen in the corner of the leader's eye, a nod of her head signaled she was ready.

Hoyt walked up to the tent and opened the flap. Inside was a large, imposing man with straw blonde hair. He had his backed turned to Hoyt and was rummaging through a dusty satchel. Upon hearing the tent open, he turned and faced Hoyt with a mad look in his squinted eyes.

"And who are you, little man, that dares to approach Batta, called the Beast on the battlefield," his voice was guttural and scratchy, but commanded an arrogant swagger of someone who thought themselves much better then they actually were.

"Are you sure it isn't because of your natural charm?" Hoyt asked, stepping back from the tent and into the field.

"You dare mock the Beast?"

"Nothing gets past you does it?" Hoyt responded. He eyed Lyn's position and gave a brief nod of his head to signal that she needed to move.

Enraged, Batta brought his axe down at Hoyt, who was barely able to roll out of the way of the attack. As Batta went to pick the weapon up, however, Lyn moved behind him and ran her blade through him. Batta looked down, in shock, at the gaping wound on his chest and dropped to his knees.

"What... how... how did you?" he managed to choke out before he too fell dead from Lyn's sword.

Hoyt got up from the ground and stared at the felled bandit leader for a moment. Though he had run through many of these sorts of drills in his classes, he had never actually seen real combat before.

"Come, we should get back," Lyn said, wiping the blood from her blade on the ground.

…

The nest day started much the same way as the previous one did for Hoyt, waking up to the sight of Lyn at the small wooden table.

"Good Morning Hoyt," she said, a smile perched upon her beautiful face.

He stifled a yawn and stood up, stretching his arms. "Morning Lyn."

"Listen, Hoyt, I was wondering... if it was... um... could I travel with you? I have nothing left here."

"Lyn, I honestly have no idea where I'm going next or what my future plans are."

"Well, we could travel to Bulgar and restock our supplies. Then, I guess we could travel as mercenaries," Lyn responded. "You'll be my master strategist and I'll be your peerless warrior."

Hoyt smiled. It made sense. She needed a purpose and he needed protection. "I guess it's settled then. Tomorrow, we leave for Bulgar."

End of Prologue

Author's Note: I haven't written anything in a long time. I hope this isn't crap. I'll have the next chapter done soon.


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